


One Day With You

by orphan_account



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Post S2. Joe is suing for custody of Tom and Fred. Hardy is trying to help Ellie through it, one day at a time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A repost of an old fic. I deleted it a little while ago, but I've received some requests to put it back.

Hardy is staying in Broadchurch again. Ellie had not asked him to, but when he heard Joe was suing for custody of Fred and Tom, nothing could keep him away.

‘Let me help you,’ he urges. ‘Anything you need – anything at all, just ask me. After what you did for me with Sandbrook…’

She calls him daft and tells him he doesn’t owe her anything. But she does not push him away either.

Most of Joe’s funds had gone into paying Sharon Bishop’s legal fees. As a result, he is relying on a rather less capable legal representative in this custody battle. Jocelyn Knight has generously volunteered to represent Ellie free of charge, but she is not optimistic about the outlook.

‘Officially, Joe is an innocent man,’ she tells Ellie. Hardy is with her, sitting at her side with his arm along the back of her chair. 'He has a right to see his sons. I fear I will not be able to get you sole custody; all we can hope for is to limit his visiting rights as much as possible.’

Ellie puts her head into her hands. Hardy wrestles with the impulse to hold her and grips the back of her chair until his knuckles turn white.

‘I can’t let him near them,' Ellie says afterwards. 'The thought of my boys with  _him –_ oh God!’ she breaks off with a sob. ‘It can’t happen. It can’t.’

‘It won’t,’ Hardy says with finality. ‘Remember, if new and compelling evidence comes to light, Joe may be trialed again.’

She knows the law as well as he does, and as she seizes on this hope the tears stop.

‘We’re going to solve this case,’ Hardy tells her. ‘We’ll get it right this time, prove beyond a doubt that it was Joe. Make sure that he never comes anywhere near Tom or Fred ever again.’

Ellie’s eyes narrow in determination. She nods. ‘Yes. We’ll do it. Together.'

‘Together,’ Hardy says, and the word is a promise.

*

Between taking care of Daisy and working at his shitty teaching job, Hardy is left with much less time to devote to Ellie and her sons than he would have liked, but still, she is amazed at how often he is there for her.

At first they just work on the case together, looking over pieces of evidence and searching for legal loopholes to exploit. But gradually, his assistance leaks into the domestic sphere. Fred has taken quite a shine to his Uncle Alec, and while they’re working he often hangs off Hardy’s neck or demands piggybacks. Fred has always been a daddy’s boy; he had always preferred Joe to herself. She suspects this is why he is so thrilled to have a new man to annoy.

On Hardy’s part, he complains about it and feigns frustration when Fred shrieks and tackles him, but he kisses Fred’s head when he thinks Ellie’s not looking, and he’s forever sneaking him toys and sweets.

Sometimes he cooks her dinner, or he shows up bearing fish and chips. He helps Tom with his homework and humours him when he talks about football, though she can tell he doesn’t understand a word of what the teenager’s saying.

One evening they put off working on the case entirely and spend the night cooking dinner together. It’s messy and full of laughter, and the three Millers have a great time annoying the fastidious, grumpy Hardy and ruining all his painstaking efforts to bring nutrition and civility into their house.

 _The Six Million Dollar Man_  is playing on the telly. Fred’s enthralled, Tom thinks it’s boring, and Hardy cracks a joke about how, since his pacemaker surgery, he’s on his way to becoming the next Six Million Dollar Man. Tom and Ellie look at him incredulously, then they scream and groan and throw things at him for making such a terrible joke.

Ellie puts Fred to bed and Tom goes upstairs to play video games. When Ellie comes back downstairs, she finds Hardy washing the dishes. That causes an argument, which is only settled when Alec consents to let her dry and put away while he washes.

She catches herself staring at him a lot. She's never noticed how long his eyelashes are, and she counts every one.

It’s midnight by the time he leaves. They say goodbye at the door, but Ellie follows him to the front gate.

‘Is there anything else you need?’ he asks.

She pats the gatepost. ‘Do you want to stay here?’ she asks suddenly.

He shakes his head. ‘It’s all right. I’ve got my room at the Trader’s.’

‘Oh – yes. But it might be easier…’

‘I have to leave early tomorrow to get Daisy. Best to go there.’

‘Yeah. Course,’ she says quickly. ‘Um… goodbye, then. Thanks for everything today. It was nice.’

She holds out her hand. He looks at it dubiously, then shakes it.

‘Look after yourself, Miller,’ he says. His grip is firm. ‘I’ll see you in three days.’

Nodding, unable to meet his eye, she pulls him forward by the hand, stands on tiptoes, and prints an awkward kiss on his whiskery cheek before fleeing back inside.

*

The first hearing is due in a week. It’s a simple arbitration, a chance for clients and their representatives to talk things out with a mediator, and a necessary prerequisite before the case can progress to court. In Ellie’s case there can, of course, be no compromise. The meeting is pointless, but it must go ahead.

The mere thought of being in the same room as Joe is enough to send Ellie half mad. Hardy sits with her and teaches her some breathing exercises to calm her down.

‘Breathe in,’ he orders, in a way that’s oddly soothing. She shuts out everything but the sound of his voice and the feel of his hand on her arm, and obeys his commands.

‘Hold it... three, two, one, and out,’ he finishes. She opens her eyes. ‘All right?’ he asks.

She nods. ‘Where did you learn that?’

‘Doctor taught me to help manage my panic attacks. And to help with…’ he gestures to his heart.

‘I feel better,’ she says in a low voice.

‘Do you want me to come to the meeting with you?’ he asks.

‘No. I need you to stay with the boys.’

When the day comes, Hardy drops her off. ‘I’ll pick you up, straight after,’ he tells her.

He goes to Beth and Mark’s house with the boys and they stay together. Hardy paces in agitation the entire time, too distracted even to play with Fred. The thought of Ellie being in the same room with Joe is too much; he has to make a concerted effort to control his breathing.

‘Alec,’ Tom says softly.

Hardy looks up. ‘What is it?’

‘Um… I’ve been thinking…’ the boy shuffles his feet. ‘I don’t want to see Dad again. I looked through all the evidence Mum’s got in her house without her knowing. I saw it all. The confession, and…’ he pauses and draws himself up, ‘I don’t care if he was found innocent. Fred can’t go near him.’

Hardy expresses how glad he is to hear it.

‘Will that count for anything?’ Tom asks. ‘If I say I don’t want to live with him or see him, or if Fred wants to stay with Mum, will that stop him from getting custody?’

‘A lot of the time, they don’t take the child’s opinion into account,’ Hardy says sadly. ‘Especially when they’re little like Fred. But everything helps. We’ll tell Jocelyn. See what she can do with it.’

He leaves the boys with Mark and Beth when he goes to pick her up. She’s in a terrible state and it takes all his self-control not to sweep her into a hug.

‘It’s going ahead,’ Jocelyn tells him. ‘Proper custody battle now. Joe won’t take anything less than a 50/50 split. Ellie, of course, won’t so much as allow him to look at them.’

Ellie is squatting beneath a willow tree behind the building and retching. Hardy goes to her and kneels at her side. He dares to stroke her back.

‘He can’t,’ she whispers, her eyes screwed shut. ‘I can’t let him near them. What – deliver my darling boys to him once a week? Let them go off with a murderer every weekend? Oh Fred, Fred… he’s so little! How can I let him go? And Tom -’

She retches again. A small amount of bile splashes onto the dirt.

‘It’s all right,’ he tells her. When she makes no resistance, he shuffles closer and rubs more firmly. ‘Tom told me just before that he doesn’t want to go with Joe. The courts might take that into account.’

She looks up at him. ‘He said that?’

He confirms it.

‘Oh… I thought perhaps he still hated me… still blamed me, or thought Joe was innocent. I’m glad.’

Her expression does not stay unclouded for long. ‘But what happens if they force him to go with Joe against his will? And Fred – Fred, my darling! He has no say in the matter at all, he just has to go where they send them! Oh, my angels!'

A heartbreaking cry escapes her. Jocelyn approaches and offers what little comfort she can. After a minute, Ellie stands up. She’s shaking, and Hardy keeps his arms half-raised, ready to catch her if she should swoon.

‘We need…’ she pauses and swallows hard, suddenly determined, ‘we need to think of a new plan. We have to think of what we’re going to do next. He can’t get visiting rights – so how do we make sure he doesn’t?'

Jocelyn promises she will work out the perfect defense, while Hardy assures her that they will continue to search for new and compelling evidence against Joe.

The court date is fixed three months hence.

*

Ellie won’t let either of her children go anywhere without an escort. Hardy is one of the few people she trusts with them, so he is often seen at her house or around Broadchurch with a surly teenager and an affectionate toddler in tow. They fall into a steady routine; four days of the week, Hardy is in Sandbrook with Daisy; for the next three days, he is in Broadchurch with Ellie.

‘This woman you’re helping – can I meet her?’ Daisy asks him one day.

He refuses. Thus far Hardy has been determined to keep Daisy out of it. She’s asked to visit Broadchurch on more than one occasion, but since he does not know Joe’s whereabouts, nor what he is capable of, his answer has been a firm no. Seeing how he frets and worries, and how he constantly looks over the evidence from Joe’s trial, is wearing his daughter’s patience thin, however. She does not take his refusal well.

‘Mum says you’re in love with her,’ the teenager says reproachfully.

Hardy goes bright red.

‘Are you?’

He tells her to finish her homework.

*

‘Miller,’ Hardy says.

Ellie turns to him. She looks wan and taut, like a bow stretched to breaking point, hovering between delivering a fatal killing shot and being snapped in two.

‘Yes?'

‘Erm… Daisy was asking me if she could visit us here,’ he says. ‘She’d like to meet you and the boys. I’ve been hesitant because of…’ he pauses. ‘But, erm… I think I’d like if you…’

A smile blooms on her face. ‘Yes. Of course! I’ve wanted to meet her for such a long time.'

Her reaction fills him with warmth from head to toe. ‘This weekend, then?’ he asks. ‘We could do something nice. Us and all the kids. Take our mind off all of this.’

He gestures to the evidence spread in front of them.

‘A trip to the beach?’ Ellie suggests. ‘First time in Broadchurch – we have to show her the cliffs and the ocean.'

Hardy’s not exactly thrilled at the suggestion, but he agrees nonetheless.

*

They arrive early one Saturday morning. Daisy is quivering with excitement, and she looks around the coastal town with a great deal of interest. Her bathers are just visible under her dress, and she chatters about the ocean.

Ellie sweeps the girl into a big hug when she meets her and exclaims at how pretty she is. She makes a few jokes at Hardy's expense, which he sighs at, and with that she wins Daisy over. Hardy can't help but envy her social skills, her friendly demeanor and the way she can put people at ease with just a word.

Fred takes a shine to Daisy, and she to him, although there is some tension between the teenagers. Tom is afraid of girls, and Daisy is rather disdainful of boys, especially those younger than herself. They give each other a wide berth, but when Tom starts playing with his football, Daisy decides to show off why she's the captain of the girls' team at school. Tom is rather impressed, and when they get to the beach they run off to kick back and forth.

Beth, Mark, Chloe and Lizzie join them on the beach. Daisy is introduced to them, and she makes friends with Chloe almost immediately. Beth is fond of her too. She remarks quietly to Ellie that she never expected Hardy to produce such a lively, sociable girl.

Under duress, Hardy is persuaded to strip to his shorts and paddle with the kids. Daisy cheekily suggests that they bury him in the sand, and since Hardy has never been able to refuse his daughter anything, he lies quietly and allows the children to do just that. Ellie helps to entomb him, Fred collects shells to decorate his prostrate form with, and when Tom draws boobs on him Ellie and Daisy almost cry with laughter.

'You're enjoying this too much,' Hardy mutters.

'Yes I am,' Ellie says fondly, stroking the sand from his hair.

They get chips afterwards and sit on the sea wall to eat them. Hardy complains about sand in his undercrackers and Ellie laughs again. With her head thrown back he can see the red roof of her mouth and the glint of her white teeth. She leans subtly into him, close enough for her hair to tickle his cheek. Daisy exclaims that these are the best fish and chips she's ever eaten, and Beth and Mark watch affectionately as Chloe twirls Lizzie in her arms.

It's dark by the time their big day is finally over, and Lizzie and Fred are exhausted. Ellie puts Fred to bed while Daisy accompanies the Latimers to their house across the field to say goodbye.

Hardy loiters downstairs. Presently, Ellie comes to find him.

‘Thank you for today,’ she tells him quietly. ‘I needed that.’

They stand in the doorway of her house. Somewhere further in a light is making the windows glow softly, but here it is dark. Daisy is still saying her final goodbyes to the Latimers; faintly, they can hear her.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay here?’ Ellie asks.

‘You’ve only got one fold-out,’ Hardy reminds her.

‘Ah. I forgot,’ she murmurs. ‘Still, it would have been nice to have you stay with us – you and Daisy.’ She raises her eyes to him. ‘Bring her again, won’t you?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to keep her away,’ he says.

In the darkness, all flaws are washed away. The lighting strips her of all hints of exhaustion and apathy. The creases on her face disappear. Her eyes seem to smoulder. Hardy, too, is transformed by the darkness. His slight stoop, his blemishes, his gauntness – all is forgotten. In this warm, dark place, visible only to each other, they are perfect.

Hardy lowers his face to hers. She tilts hers upwards. The darkness obscures whatever happens next, but when they break apart, it can dimly be discerned that Ellie is holding his hand.

*

The day at the beach is but a brief respite, however, and it is soon swept away in a flood.

‘He’s been contacting me,’ Ellie tells Hardy in distress. ‘He wants to see me before the trial starts – he wants to try and talk things out, just the two of us.’

The trial itself is less than three weeks away. Hardy is disturbed. ‘Why is he trying this now?’

‘I don’t know,’ she says. She lets him listen to the voicemail messages he’d left, and shows him the text messages.

‘How did he even get my new number?’ she demands.

‘Let’s show Jocelyn,’ Hardy says, profoundly unsettled by this advent. ‘Maybe there’s something in here she can use.’

There’s something sickly sweet and gently mocking about the messages.  _Come on, El. It doesn’t have to be like this. Let’s just talk this out. You and me, without lawyers. Let’s talk, like we used to. If you would just be reasonable…_

By the third time she listens to them, Ellie’s reaction has turned from fear to anger. Jocelyn says there is nothing untoward about them – nothing she can use in a court of law, anyway – and simply advises Ellie to ignore them.

And Ellie does. But as the messages persist, she wonders if there might be some profit in them.

‘I think I should meet him,’ she tells Hardy late one night.

He is aghast. ‘You can’t! Miller, he says he wants to meet you alone. He could be planning anything.’

‘No; think about it,’ she says. ‘I give him what he wants. I agree to meet him alone. And we bug the place. Record whatever he says. I could try and talk a confession out of him, or at least some evidence.'

He looks pensive, but the idea is intriguing. ‘I don’t know… it seems too risky.’

‘But what else are we supposed to do?’ she bursts out, sweeping her hand across the table. All the evidence they’ve collected lies scattered there. ‘We’ve got nothing else to go on- months of work and we haven’t made a fucking  _inch_ of progress! But this – this is a real chance to get something new.'

‘But if anything were to happen to you -’ he breaks off and grimaces.

She replies, ‘it’s worth the risk. If it can keep my boys safe, it’s worth it.’

‘And what about you?’ he asks in hurt tones. ‘What about keeping you safe?’

His hand creeps across the table, and hers meets his halfway.

'Never mind me.'

He exhales through his nostrils. ‘Where do we do it?’ he asks at last. ‘Here?’

‘Oh no – never!’ Ellie cries, snatching her hand away. ‘He can never come here – not into my  _home!_ Never, never!’

‘My hotel room, then,’ he suggests, cutting off her paroxysm. ‘That’s neutral territory. We can tell Becca what we plan to do – make sure he knows that we’ve got people keeping tabs on him.’

‘Yes,’ she says slowly. ‘And you and I know that place well enough. There are places to hide cameras. Private and public at the same time – easy to defend.’

Ellie spreads a new sheet of paper on the table and they begin planning the encounter thoroughly. As they do, an unpremeditated instinct overcomes both of them and they clasp hands again.

‘He wants to get back together with me,’ Ellie tells him, shaking under his grip. ‘I didn’t want to tell you – but the reason he’s been contacting me is because he wants me back. Not just Tom and Fred – but me as well!’

‘He can’t possibly believe you would.’

‘I think he does. He said he loved me. He kept asking – why can’t things go back to how they were? And he’s still using my last name. He still calls himself Miller, and when I saw him last he was wearing his wedding ring.’

Hardy holds her hand and runs his thumb over the pale, ghostly band of skin around her ring finger. She watches the gesture, and tears drip down her cheeks.

‘I’m still married to him,’ she admits in a low voice. ‘I tried to divorce him, but he - he wouldn't. He keeps reminding me that I’m his wife. That I’m his. “You’re mine, El,” is what he said to me. "You’re mine, you’re mine…"’

She shudders all over, as if cockroaches are crawling under her skin.

‘It doesn’t matter if you’re not divorced,’ Hardy says. ‘You know you’re not his wife.’

‘In the legal sense I am. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it? I feel like I'm going mad. The fact that he believes he can have us back – that he has a legal right to us – Alec, it’s killing me!’

His first name slips out with her impassioned cry. Hardy starts forward and puts his arm around her. She turns her face upwards and kisses him without warning, and her expression is one of pure misery. The lashes are stuck to her face like damp tags.

‘I’m not his wife,’ she says, kissing him again. ‘He’s not their father. I won’t let him have us. Not me or Tom or Fred. Never again. Never, never…’

Her kisses become more frantic and she fists the fabric of Hardy’s shirt. One of the kisses turns long and deep and he tenderly strokes her hair.

He pulls away. His fingers are tangled in hers; he moves his lips to her brow and kisses, then presses their foreheads together.

‘He has a legal right,’ Ellie mumbles, parroting what Joe has been saying to her all this time. ‘He has a legal right to see the children. I’m his wife.’

‘Shhh,' he hushes. ‘You'll be safe from him. All three of you, I promise.’

‘He murders a child and he has a legal right to my boys,’ Ellie says bitterly. ‘And I can’t divorce him without his consent. Is this what justice is?’

He kisses her forehead again. ‘It’s all right,’ he soothes.

Ellie is silent for a little time. ‘You’re always so kind to me, Alec. Thank you.’

‘You should get some rest,’ he says. ‘It’s late. We can finish planning this tomorrow.’

She nods and heaves a shaky sigh. ‘Will you stay with me?’ she asks. ‘I just… I need someone else in the house with me.’

Hardy consents. He knows that she would yield willingly if he kissed her again, but in her present emotional state he thinks better of it. She sets up the fold-out for him and he bids her chastely goodnight.

Fred discovers that his beloved Uncle Alec is staying in the house a few hours later; when Ellie walks downstairs the next morning, she finds Hardy spreadeagled on the foldout, one arm locked securely around Fred, and the toddler sleeping with his ear pressed to Hardy’s heart.

She lingers in the doorway, watching them, and thinks of what she would do to protect her boys: Fred, Tom, and Alec.

*

Hardy’s whiskered, bespectacled face flickers into focus on the camera. He adjusts it and stands back, then moves the picture frame in front of them. Satisfied at its position, he turns to set up another.

Ellie watches him work, cataloguing where each one is pointing.

‘Do you think he’ll suspect something like this?’ she asks, rubbing her arms with some apprehension.

‘Possibly.’ Hardy puts the final camera in place. He stands next to Ellie and surveys the room. ‘He’s not stupid. The very fact you agreed to this meeting at all must make him wonder.’

She shudders. ‘It’s not too late,’ Hardy points out. ‘You don’t need to go through with this.’

‘But it’s the best chance we’ve got.’ Ellie turns, and her brown eyes flick across his face, studying him. ‘What could be more compelling than recording him confess without realising?’

Becca consented to them meeting in her hotel on the condition that Joe be smuggled in the back, through the staff entrance in the kitchen. The last thing she wants is people seeing a murderer in her hotel. They agreed to this, and so they loiter in the kitchen, waiting for him to arrive.

After a time, Hardy tells Ellie, ‘you should wait upstairs. It’s probably better if I see him first. I’ll call you when he gets here.’

Ellie agrees mutely. She shuffles away. Hardy watches her for a few moments, then turns his attention towards the door once more.

After an age, it opens.

Joe Miller steps inside. He’s wearing a handsome new suit and the smell of his aftershave hits Hardy almost at once. Unbeknownst to Hardy, this aftershave was once Ellie’s favourite. He always wore it on special occasions.

Hardy’s reaction is visceral. He feels like he’s been kicked in the stomach. He counts his breaths, steadies himself, and shuts it off. He’s working a case now.

‘Joe,’ Hardy says. Joe’s face falls when he sees him.

‘I was expecting her,’ he says sullenly.

'She's waiting upstairs.' Hardy leads Joe out of the kitchen and into an alcove under the stairs. ‘I’m running this meeting today. You will meet with Ellie for no more than thirty minutes. You are not permitted to touch her. I will be downstairs the whole time. Ellie will have her phone with her, and she will call me the instant she feels uncomfortable. Becca and the hotel staff have all been informed you’re here. You hurt her, I will arrest you. You threaten her, I will arrest you. You try  _anything_ ,’ he glares hard at Joe, ‘and I will bring down twenty officers to drag you away in chains. You understand?’

Joe is contemptuous. ‘She’s my wife,’ he says. ‘You think I’d hurt her?’

‘I’m gonna need to pat you down,’ Hardy says.

Joe seems to think he’s joking. When Hardy’s eyes remain glitteringly hard, he scoffs and extends his arms. Hardy begins with his feet, works his way up, and pats him all over. It’s a curiously intimate experience. When Hardy clasps him to feel his back, Joe turns his head to Hardy’s slightly, and he can feel Joe’s breath on his cheek. It makes his skin crawl to be this close to him. How much worse must it be for Ellie, remembering the intimate embraces she shared with this man?

As he checks his arms he notices, with a stab of dread, that Joe is wearing his wedding ring. Just as Ellie had said.

When this is done, Hardy calls Ellie.

‘He’s here,’ he tells her. ‘I’ve briefed him. Are you ready?’

Ellie speaks to him. Joe frowns at him and Hardy returns his contemptuous stare. They face off - one, the lover of the sufferer above who had no right to her, and the other, the husband who had every right to her, but who was the very instrument of her suffering.

Ellie finishes speaking and Hardy hangs up. ‘Walk,’ he orders.

He sends Joe up the stairs ahead of him, directing him to the room.

‘I’ve seen you out and about with her and the boys,’ Joe says. ‘It’s funny, seeing you all together, especially considering how she used to talk about you. You were always ‘Shitface’ to her. Always the bastard boss who took her job. We used to laugh at you behind your back.’

A vein throbs in Hardy’s temple.

‘Daisy – that’s your daughter’s name, right? Ellie said to me – imagine what she’s like. She must have shit manners. Must be a pathetic clone of that -’

‘I’m not going to believe this, Joe,’ Hardy snarls.

Joe lets out a low laugh. ‘That's the thing, though – I’m telling the truth.’

Doubt tugs at Hardy’s heart. They reach the door and Hardy knocks.

‘You don’t touch her,’ he reminds him. ‘You don’t do anything to hurt her.’

Joe is silent. Ellie opens the door. She flinches visibly when she sees Joe but soon recovers. She draws herself up to her full, diminutive height and her brows pull into a ferocious knot.

‘Hi, El,’ Joe says.

‘ _Don’t_  call me El,’ she snaps.

‘Thirty minutes,’ says Hardy. ‘Right?’

‘Probably less than that,’ she mutters.

‘Call me if you need me,’ Hardy tells her. ‘Or just shout. I’ll be there.’

She nods, glaring at Joe. She’s burning with fury. Hardy takes her by her upper arms and squeezes gently. ‘I’ll be right downstairs.’

He waits until she acknowledges him with a nod. Joe’s face twists at the familiar way he touches her.

With one final, longing look, Hardy withdraws, and husband and wife disappear behind the door.

*

Hardy paces downstairs. There are fourteen steps from one end of the bar to the other. He counts them, his head down and his arms folded. Back and forth he goes.

Being confined to the bar is maddening. He checks the timer on his phone and walks to the foot of the stairs, frowning up at the floor above and tapping his hand on the balustrade.

Becca approaches him awkwardly. ‘Alec,’ she interrupts. ‘Is there anything I can do?'

He shakes his head. Becca leaves him alone, but he can tell she’s genuinely concerned for them. She walks back into the bar and finishes serving breakfast to a few customers. As she walks into the kitchen, she notices with trifling annoyance that one of the knives is missing from the block.

*

Ellie appears on the landing. Alec starts forward at once.

‘Ellie!’ he cries in relief. ‘You're okay!’

She bounds down the stairs and all but throws herself against him. ‘Alec!’ she says, looking up at him proudly. ‘Do you know what I have come to tell you?’

‘What?’ he asks.

‘It’s over – my boys are safe. He can't hurt me anymore!’

‘What?’ he repeats, incredulous. ‘How?’

‘Because I’ve killed him – he’s dead!’

And a pitiful white smile splits her face.

Hardy blinks at her. ‘What do you mean he’s dead?’

‘Just that – he’s dead! Dead, and now at last Tom and Fred are safe from him!’

‘It’s not true,' Hardy says. He cannot think how she could have done it. He had not heard the least sound of a struggle, and her manic demeanor suggests delusion. 'It can't be true.’

‘It is,’ she says. ‘You should have heard the way he spoke to me. He called me his wife and he said he loved me and that all he wanted was for us to get back together. To live with me and the boys as before. I told him it would never happen – and then he spoke of you – and he asked if it were true that we’d had an affair. He wanted to know – if I loved you – if you loved the boys - and I said yes! I said I loved you!’

The colour drains from Hardy’s face. He flinches, feeling as if someone has driven a stake through his heart.

‘He changed when I said that. All the sweetness was gone. He kept saying that I was  _his,_ that I was  _his_ wife and that Tom and Fred were  _his_ sons and that he would have us and never let you near us. He said he would never let me get divorced and that if I kept trying to fight him he would sue for sole custody, and he would not stop, he would not stop, he would keep using the law, that he had rights and that he would have us and never, never stop, so I - !’

The same white smile returns to her face. There is almost an air of triumph about her. Hardy cannot say a word. He rushes upstairs, with Ellie following him.

‘The way he looked at me,’ she mutters. ‘Tried to touch me – told me he  _loved_ me – and the way he changed when I said I loved you! Oh thank  _God_ the boys are safe from him. He would not have stopped. No, he would never have stopped, he had his rights and the law on his side, and my boys in  _his_ hands… saying he loves them, but able to change so quickly!'

Hardy reaches the door. He almost cannot bring himself to open it, but pushing down his fear, he turns the handle.

A single glance is sufficient. A body lies there on its side, the blue eyes staring out at the door. Ellie has buried a knife into his chest, right up to the hilt. She had not tried to go through his ribs, but rather thrust it under his ribcage. The angle of penetration tells him that it has quite pierced the heart of the victim. Blood spreads around the body, creating a perverse heart shape. It drips from the knife handle.

Drip, drip, drip.

He withdraws, shaking all over, and closes the door. His hand grips the knob and he glances at Ellie, who stands to one side, shadowed slightly.

‘He  _is_ dead?’ she asks anxiously. She had not been able to look inside the room.

‘He is,’ Hardy echoes mechanically.

‘Good…’ her eyes are hooded. ‘There were times when I was afraid he _couldn’t_ be killed…’

‘My God, Ellie!’ Hardy cries, tears springing to his eyes. ‘Do you realise what you’ve done?’

He breaks down and crumples to his knees. Ellie puts her hand on his back. ‘It’s all right,’ she sighs. ‘I thought it would come to this. For the longest time I felt it would come to this…’

‘How can you just stand there?’ he demands. He grasps at her clothes. She is stone beneath his fingers. ‘How can you be so calm?’

‘I don’t know. I feel as though I'm dreaming…’

Hardy seizes her. He pulls her down and draws her face close, pressing his forehead to hers.

‘Ellie, Ellie… oh darling…’ the tender epithet slips out without him realising. His shaking hands cup her face and the fingers twist in her hair. ‘I have to arrest you now.’

‘Yes,’ she agrees. ‘I’m glad it’s you who will do it.’

‘Glad – Ellie! How can you say that? Don’t you know what I would have done for you? I would have done anything, anything you asked! Anything at all to keep you safe, if only you asked!'

‘But you wouldn't have done this,’ she says. ‘You couldn’t. You’re a good man, Alec. You would die to protect the people you love. But you would never kill.’ She sighs. ‘I suppose that’s the difference between you and me.’

‘No – no, you were always so much better than me – you were my better half.’

‘And you were mine. And now I've lost you.’ She starts to tremble, and he holds her tighter. ‘I’ll have to go to jail now,’ she says, sniffing. ‘You’ll arrest me, and justice will be done.’ The trembling worsens. ‘But – Tom and Fred… oh!' her eyes widen. 'My boys! I have to see them. Couldn’t I see them? Couldn’t you let me see them before you arrest me? Just one last time – Alec, please!’

She seizes both his hands and looks pleadingly into his eyes. She rises to her feet, pulling Hardy up with her.

‘Please, Alec,’ she begs. ‘Just let me say goodbye to them. Please.’

His expression is tortured. She’s only seen him look at her like this once before. It was the moment he’d told her Joe was Danny’s killer, and she’d asked to see her husband.

Now, as then, kindness gets the better of him.

They lock the door and leave without telling Becca. He suspects it will only be a matter of time before the body is discovered but they cannot dwell on that now.

He takes her home. Lucy is staying at her house, keeping an eye on the boys.

‘Oh!’ Lucy says when they come inside. She hastily shuts off the computer, but not before they catch a glimpse of the online gambling site she’s on. ‘Oh – I weren’t expecting you for a while. How’d it go, then?’

Hardy is a statue. Ellie is taut and trembling. She’s a dam at bursting point.

‘F-Fred and Tom,’ she says, trying to stay calm. ‘Where are they?’

‘Tom’s playing the Xbox, Freddy’s in the lounge,’ Lucy says. The look on Ellie’s face frightens her, but Hardy is worse.

‘Jesus. It must be bad,’ Lucy says. ‘Don’t tell me he tried to hurt her?’

Hardy shakes his head. Ellie marches into the living room, where she throws herself on top of Fred and smothers the boy in hugs and kisses. ‘Will you ask Tom to come down?’ she says to Hardy.

He does so. Tom follows him downstairs, mystified by the ashen look on Hardy’s face. Hardy does not even respond when he teases him.

Ellie bursts into tears when she sees Tom. She's kneeling on the floor with Fred and she holds out her arms to him. He kneels next to her and yields to her hug.

'My darlings,' she says, kissing them over and over.

'Mum, what's happening?' Tom demands.

'Don't tell me he's suing for sole custody now?' Lucy says. She snaps her fingers. 'That's it, isn't it?'

'Sole custody?' Tom looks fearfully at his mother. 'Mum - that can't happen. I don't want to go with him - he murdered my best friend, I can't go with him!'

'Oh, no!' Ellie gasps, holding them close. 'It won't happen. It won't! I promise, my darlings, he won't hurt you. He won't ever come near you, not ever.'

Tom does not look convinced. 'I'm scared for Fred.'

'Don't be. Tom, Fred - boys, my sweet boys, you are safe. Both of you.'

She holds them to her and sighs, breathing in the smell of them. Hardy watches silently, grief etched on his ashen face. Lucy is mystified.

She spends the next hour with them. She and Tom play with Fred and humour him, indulging him in silly games and fantasies. The time comes for Fred's afternoon nap and Ellie carries him upstairs. She puts him to bed for the last time and kisses him and tells him she loves him.

'I have to go now,' she tells Tom. Tears are welling in her eyes again. 'Be a good boy, won't you?'

Thinking she is still worried about the trial, Tom hugs her.

‘It’ll be all right, Mum,’ he says.

‘Yes,’ she sighs, her fingers curling in his blonde hair. ‘Yes, my darling. Everything will be fine. He won’t take you. He won’t hurt you or Fred. I promise.' She kisses his forehead. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

They leave Lucy in charge, who is still demanding to know what's happening. Hardy mumbles something about needing to see Jocelyn and they get outside. Ellie takes a long, final look at her house.

‘Take me away,’ she begs, wiping the fluid from her face. ‘Take me away, quickly. I don’t want them to see me like this. I want them to remember what I was like before - before I -’

She and Hardy hurry away. They stand on the green field behind her house. Ellie looks up the hill at the Latimer house.

‘I wonder what Beth will think of this?’ she murmurs. ‘She was afraid of Joe coming after Chloe or Lizzie – thank God she won’t have to worry about that anymore. Justice has been done. We all agreed Joe didn’t deserve life for what he did. I’m only sorry I had to carry out the sentence.'

The grass moves liltingly in the wind. All is silent, peaceful. There is no sound to suggest the alarm has been raised, or that anyone is looking for them.

‘Could I – could we walk around Broadchurch for a little bit?’ Ellie asks. She wipes her eyes again. ‘Before we go - could we walk around the town, one last time?'

Hardy, whose gentle heart gives him no other recourse, agrees.

They stay off the roads. Ellie knows all the secret ways and backroads in Broadchurch as well as she knows her own hands. She takes them on twisting routes, past ragged hawthorns and stinging nettles, down tracks where no-one may see or disturb them.

‘That's the house I grew up in,’ she tells him when they near a deserted part of the coast. She points at a tiny, broken-down old place. Hardy surveys it with a detective's eye, and gleans that her upbringing was rough and poor, but filled with love. The names  _Ellie_ and  _Lucy_ are carved onto the gatepost. ‘Sold off once my parents died. I wish we could’ve kept it, but I had a mortgage of my own to pay off.’

She points out the creek she used to catch frogs in, her father’s old workshop, the trees she used to climb. She relates some stories to him.

‘You’re so silent,’ she says reproachfully. He is following behind her, his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back. ‘This is my last day here. Can't we make it special?'

He quickens his pace and walks by her side.

‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long,’ she says. ‘Show you how I see Broadchurch, and walk with you – just the two of us.’

‘Why did you wait this long?’

‘Because I was another man’s wife. But now – now, I am free.’

She draws close to him.

‘Imagine,’ she murmurs, 'this is an ordinary day. And we - we are together. How would you walk with me, then?'

He places his arm around her waist.

‘Yes – just so,’ Ellie says, putting her own arm around his.

She continues to talk, conjuring images of her vagabond ten-year-old self chasing tadpoles, running up and down the green hills and playing on the beach as if it were her sandbox.

They go to the cliffs and stand right upon the shoulders of those tawny giants, looking out at the deep wide ocean. The wind blasts them and Ellie shivers. Hardy draws her close and she turns into him, placing her hand over his heart. He kisses her head. The stake twists in his heart as he thinks of the future they might have shared, the future they can no longer touch, and two tears run down his cheeks.

The day draws on. The promise to only be away for a little while is forgotten. They go down to the beach, where they watch the gulls circling above them. Ellie dips her fingers in the water.

‘I must have spent half my childhood in the sea,’ she smiles. ‘It’s a wonder I didn’t drown.’

They clasp each other and promenade likes lovers along the sand. As delusion slips away from her and stark reality descends, she begins to act more and more distressed.

Hardy only holds her tighter.

They do not return to the town; Ellie’s meandering path takes them to the cemetery behind the church. Here she stops, and it appears that it is here she means to stay until they come for her.

It’s oddly beautiful in the cemetery. The church is empty and there is no-one to be found. They ramble among the graves. Hardy wonders how many generations of Broadchurch natives are interred here.

Picking her way through the oldest graves, Ellie points out her ancestors to him. The name  _Miller_ appears over and over.

‘My family has lived here for generations,’ she explains. ‘Ages back, we used to live in a mill on the river – that same river that passes by your old blue house near the harbour. It’s where our name comes from. We ground wheat there. The stuff of life, in those days…’

She steps over some cracked graves. Hardy notices that the Millers are often interred in pairs, the very pairs that made, through successive generations, Ellie’s own life come into being.

She comes to a halt a little further on. ‘We lost it all. There were two brothers – one wanted to be a sailor, and one wanted to be a soldier. Neither of them wished to carry on at the mill. In the war with Napoleon, the soldier was killed; the sailor was believed lost. The father of the boys died of grief, and the mill passed into the hands of a distant relative, who gambled it all away. Then the sailor came back. He’d made a promise to a young woman, you see - and thoughts of her kept him alive, even when he was wounded and half-drowned. He returned from the sea and she married him, and they lived in poverty, though happily.’

She passes on from the grave of the sailor-miller and his wife, and comes to another crop of Millers. These graves are smaller and shabbier than those before. ‘These are their children. All of them inherited their father’s love of the sea. This one was a wrecker, this one a smuggler, and they produced their own seafaring children. Our family was notorious for a while. There used to be a saying – “you can’t drown a Miller.”’

She smiled. ‘My father and I did our family tree together. He was so proud of us and this town and where we came from. That’s why, when I married Joe, I asked him to take my name. Lucy took her husband’s name, but I wanted to preserve the Miller name.' She turns to Hardy. 'I know you don't understand why I stayed here, even after everything. Maybe you know now. This is my home. I'm a Miller. I'm a part of this place. The river, the ocean, the very earth and sky here are a part of me. How could I let Joe take that from me?'

Hardy finds himself repenting that he ever despised this place. Ellie walks on, and the generations of Millers lie quietly, indifferent to the suffering of their descendant.

They come to a new grave.

 _Daniel Latimer,_ the headstone reads. Ellie surveys the inscription.

‘I should have brought flowers,’ she says suddenly. She looks around; daisies, bluebells and ragged-robins, all the hallmarks of spring, are growing out of a patch of graves nearby. She collects them and lays them on top of the grave. Hardy stoops and helps her arrange them.

‘Beth’s boy,’ she says, touching the stone. ‘I held him in my arms when he was just a baby.’ Tears cloud her eyes and she smiles faintly. ‘Oh, he was such a cheeky boy. This great big smile… he and Tom were best friends from the moment they met.’

She traces the lettering, copying out his name with her fingertip. ‘But I chose that man,' she says bitterly. 'I brought  _him_ into contact with that sweet boy.' Her lip stiffens. 'Well. I couldn’t stop him from killing Dan, but at least I got him justice.’

Hardy had been silent thus far, but he could not stand it anymore. ‘Ellie, stop it! Don’t talk like this, for God’s sake! Don’t _say_ that!’

He stands up and turns away. She touches his arm and his haunting brown eyes screw up in pain.

'Why are you being punished because of him? My God - !' He suddenly cups her face in his hands. ‘It’s not fair,’ he says, ‘it’s not fair – why do you have to suffer for what he did? ’

She blinks up at him. ‘Why did you have to suffer for what Tess did?’ she asks.

He replies pensively, ‘I did it to protect Daisy.’

‘And I did this to protect Tom and Fred.’

They both turn and look at the grave in front of them.

‘He can never hurt another child,’ she says with finality.

Hardy buries his fingers in her curly hair and pulls her head against his chest. He kisses her, now crying, and she rests her ear against his heart. They stay like that for some time, and forget the world for just a little bit.

‘Alec,’ she murmurs, ‘say you love me.’

He replies without hesitation, ‘I love you.’

‘Even though I have killed him – say you love me.’

‘I love you. I’ve loved you all this time.’

‘Mm,’ she breathes. ‘I keep thinking... of that day at the beach. With you and Daisy and me and the boys, and the Latimers too. I was happy, then, happier than I thought I could be. It makes me wish... but no, that happiness could never last. Not for me.'

The world beyond Hardy’s arms is cruel and unjust and cold. But here – oh, she could stay encircled forever here, where it’s warm and gentle and soft. There is a river inside him; she can hear it. It is edged with bluebells, and his heart is the mill-wheel, turning, turning, turning…

The distant wail of sirens brushes her ears and they both flinch.

‘Our time is up,’ she says. She notices that it is almost dusk, and looks up at Hardy. ‘The day ended so soon. Oh – couldn’t I go and say goodbye to Tom and Fred one more time?’

‘We can't,’ Hardy says. ‘They’re looking for you.’

‘Yes… I suppose I should be glad I got at least these few hours – at least one day with you. But Tom and Fred – just one more kiss! I don’t care how they see me or whether they know what I did, I just want to see them!’

The sirens are getting louder. ‘We can’t,’ he repeats. ‘If I don’t bring you in now, they’ll arrest me too.’

‘No – no, that can’t happen. I need you to arrest me. I want it to be you.’

She presses her hands against his chest and he manacles her wrists with his fingers. He finds the pulse with his index finger, and he pities how fast it hammers, like that of a rabbit in the jaws of a steel trap.

‘We could run away,’ she muses. ‘You, me, Tom and Fred – we could all run away.’

‘And where would we go?’

‘To the sea,’ she says. ‘Like all the Millers do. Far away out on the sea, where there’s no law or justice, no country…’

A wistful expression overcomes her. ‘But no… I feel like – even out on the sea, there’d be no place for us.’

The sirens are getting louder. Ellie looks distressed. ‘Oh… oh, they’re coming. Are you sure there’s no time to see Tom and Fred…? I would have liked to hold them just once more. I’m going out of my mind thinking about what will happen to them without me. Lucy’s been named as their guardian but my sister… she loves them, but she’s been gambling again recently and I worry…’

She looks into Hardy's dark eyes. 'Will you look after them?' she asks suddenly. 'You are the man I trust most in the world, and Fred and Tom love you. Fred more than Tom, perhaps, but I know you would be kind to them. I've seen how you are with Daisy - I know they would be safe in your hands.'

Hardy's heart almost cracks in two. ‘I’ll take care of them. God, Ellie, I would do anything for you. Don't you realise that?'

The piercing wail grows louder still. Hardy pins her to his chest, caught between his duty as a police officer and his all-consuming desire to protect her.

‘We have to go,’ he says in agony. ‘We can't let them find you. I'll take you to the station myself - I won't see you led away in chains.'

He takes her hand and, weeping, leads her away from Danny's grave and the bones of her ancestors.

Far away, the wide blue sea is drowning the orange sun.

*

Hardy visits her in the remand centre. Jenkinson waived the charges for his part in helping her abscond for a day, but it did have the unfortunate consequence that he was only allowed closed visits for the moment. They are portioned by glass, and Hardy cannot touch her.

‘We’re very close to proving Joe’s guilt posthumously,’ Hardy tells her. ‘There were a number of clues on the recording we took that Jocelyn’s been able to work with. Sharon and Abby have agreed to testify on our behalf too. If we can have Joe officially declared Danny’s killer, it’s likely you’ll get a lesser sentence.’

Ellie nods. She stares at some point on the table and cannot look at him. Her face is thin and white, and her expression cannot be described as anything but broken.

‘How are the boys?’ she asks.

‘Erm. Not so good,’ Hardy says, his forehead wrinkling. ‘Tom… Tom’s stopped going to school. Lucy and I are trying to convince him to go again, but…’ he falls silent.

‘And Fred?’

Hardy exhales slowly. ‘He misses you,’ he says. His voice cracks. ‘Every time I put him to bed, he asks why Mum isn’t there to kiss him goodnight.’

Ellie flinches. She drags her gaze up and looks him in the eye. They talk quietly about the boys for a little longer, then she asks, ‘how’s Daisy taking all this?’

‘She doesn’t quite understand it all. But she wants to help me. She likes Tom and Fred, and she wants to be there for them.’

‘I’m sorry I dragged her into this,’ Ellie says. ‘And you… I’m sorry I dragged you into this.’

‘You didn’t drag me into anything.’

She looks pensive. ‘What I asked you… about taking care of Tom and Fred… I had no right to ask that. You’re not family. You have no obligation…’

‘I do.’

‘No, you don’t,’ she says sharply. ‘Alec, you don’t have to go through with this. You can leave, if you want.’

‘No.’

‘I’m giving you a chance to walk away!’ she cries in frustration. ‘Don’t you see? You have your whole life ahead of you. Take Daisy and leave. Marry Tess again, find some other woman, make a life for yourself.’

‘My life is here.’

She’s crying now. ‘Don’t turn me into another Sandbrook,’ she begs. ‘Don’t make me your penance. Please, please don’t do this because you want to punish yourself for not solving the case.’

‘That's not why I'm doing it.'

‘Then why? Alec, I’m going to be in here for years! It doesn’t matter if we prove Joe’s guilt, or if we can argue I had extreme provocation or whatever Jocelyn’s talking about. I killed him. I'm guilty.' She's almost relieved that the statement is true now. 'They’ll put me away for years and justice will be done.’

‘Jocelyn thinks under ten years is possible,’ Hardy persists. ‘With parole and good behaviour and appeals, it could be even less than that. It's not so long.’

‘Not so long,’ she says, agonised. ‘My boys will be grown by the time I get out. Sweet little Fred and Tom… oh, they’ll be so big…’

Hardy says quietly, ‘Lucy’s been gambling again. The Latimers have offered to take Tom and Fred, but they’re not well off financially, and they have Lizzie to think of. But me... I can take them. I've been offered the DI job in Broadchurch again. I can move here properly, make a good home for the Millers. Daisy said she'd be happy to stay here, too.'

'Alec...'

He leans forward. 'Name me as their legal guardian. Make it official. I'll take care of them. I promise.'

'You can leave,' she mumbles weakly. Her resolve is crumbling. 'Alec, get out now. Please.'

'No. Ellie, this is what I want.'

He says it so firmly that she cannot but believe him. A ghost of a smile lights her face and she puts her hand on the glass. Hardy mirrors her movement and places his hand over hers. Less than a centimetre of glass separates them.

The smile slips and a low sob escapes her. She places her head into her other hand. Her brown hair falls forward and obscures her eyes. Her body shakes, and her fingers curl on the glass.

Unable to touch her, Hardy can only watch. He keeps his hand on the glass and lines up the tips of his fingers with hers, so that it almost, almost seems like they’re touching.

He sits there for some time and watches her cry, so close, yet so far away from her. 


End file.
